Pain Drove Them
by Write-name-here
Summary: LJ oneshot: Crying scarlet tears was the side of James no one knew  [an: cutting]


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for lack of a better title: **Pain Drove Them**

James stared down at the darkness hungrily waiting to swallow him. No one would be looking for him. He'd told Sirius, Remus, and Peter that he had Head duties with Lily and that right after, he was to patrol the corridors. He'd told Lily that he was in detention with McGonagall which was reasonable enough. No. Nobody would notice he was gone. No one would know.

It would just be a small splat. He wouldn't feel a thing. Or maybe he'd feel an explosion of unbearable pain. Only for a second though, he reassured himself. He peered down again. The drop was over three hundred feet. He could still live. He was a wizard after all. Magic could kick in whenever it felt like.

Now was the time to do it. Everything was confirmed; he loved her, she hated him. She was beautiful inside and out; he was the scum of the earth- breathtakingly ugly. He didn't deserve to live. If he didn't deserve Lily's love, it only made sense to… he took a tiny step forward.

Wait. He caught himself. No. It was too… fast. It was a cowardly thing to do. Drowning in despair was manlier than… _offing_ himself.

Sighing, he took out Sirius' knife, which he had jacked some months before; he'd learned a muggle method over the summer. Sirius thought the knife was lost forever. He didn't suspect James. No one suspected James. He was the image of perfection after all. He scoffed. Pureblood, rich, dashing, smart, athletic, smooth talking… Lily-less.

Everything made sense in his mind. If he gave her pain, then it was reasonable to inflict pain on himself. He snorted. Pain. He received enough pain, didn't he? His poor heart. Might as well give it to those bloody muggle scientists to poke at. It couldn't be hurt anymore, now that the harshest punishment had been executed. Merlin, it hurt just thinking of her. He had placed his heart under a guillotine and had given her the choice. Life or death.

She chose death without realizing it. He had overheard the conversation. She didn't even realize he was there. He'd thought her spewed emotions were for show; he didn't think she actually meant them as vehemently as…

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"_So what's with you and Potter?" Alice Hale giggled. "You two looked pretty cozy last night in the common room."_

"_Nothing," Lily had replied stiffly._

"_Oh, c'mon, humor us," Emmeline said. "We all know how you feel." Her eye winked, and James shrank back toward the shadows. It was as though she knew he was there listening._

"_Humor you? You don't know how I feel," she said maliciously. "I hate him. There's nothing between us but hate. He asks me out to embarrass me and to lower my dignity. He makes me sick. He thinks he's so high and mighty with his smarts and athleticism. He says he's opposed to Slytherins and Voldemort and that pureblood crap. Hah! He's no different. He's just as bad. Picking on people for pure enjoyment? Because he was bored? That is downright disgusting. And don't tell me he hasn't done it in awhile because I don't care! Poisonous toadstools can't change their spots. _

"_It's their pain for his pleasure. My pain for his pleasure. Eurgh! He is so egotistical, playing with the bloody Snitch. He's a bloody chaser! He doesn't need to show the entire world that he can play all four positions. And he always ruffles his hair. What? Does he thinks that makes him look more… windswept? Erotic? As if he'd just fallen down from heaven? _

"_He's a big joke. Always asking me out, saying he loves me. He doesn't know what love is. He's a child trapped inside a man's body. He only wants what he can't have. I wish he'd just go and burn in hell. I'd rather go to hell than be in heaven with that… that bastard. If he loved me, he'd throw himself off the tower for my sake…" Tears were dripping from her eyes now. That's when he just had to lose his balance and tumble into the room. Lily's darkening face, probably red with fury, was the last thing he saw before he made a hasty exit._

He gritted his teeth as he slid the blade into his skin, nicking the delicate area under his wrist. Smooth jerks were the key. It wouldn't hurt as much. Coward, he thought. Cutting the 'easy' way. He seethed quietly as his skin cried tears of crimson blood through the letters L and E. Crying scarlet tears was the side of James no one knew. His life, thick burgundy liquid, trickled down his forearm as he stared at her etched initials, thinking.

He didn't love her. He couldn't have. He couldn't even bring himself to commit suicide to make her happy. Some lover he was. He couldn't grant her most fervent wish. So why did it hurt so much? Why did those words cut through his flesh more painfully than the knife had just had? His heart was throbbing in his chest even more than his bloodied wrist, even though the cuts were fresher.

After awhile, he decided that he had atoned for her pain. Besides, if he lost too much blood… well, he couldn't exactly keep telling Madam Pomfrey that some Slytherin sliced him up. He'd already landed in the Hospital Wing twice this month. Three strikes and you're out. At least that's what Lily said whenever he tried to make a joke while patrolling.

He tapped his wand to his skin, the wounds sealing before his very eyes, leaving no visible scar. Only a dull, numbing feeling remained. Perfect. Everything was balanced again… until the next time, of course. There was always a next time. He hurt her constantly without any intention of doing so. It was a curse. Everything he did pained her.

He stood there silently, listening to his own breathing. He was amazed at how quickly his body replenished blood cells. Perhaps he should eat less iron. Then he'd slowly be killing himself, draining himself, exactly what Lily wanted.

She wanted him dead, didn't she?

He sighed. It was only around 10:30. There were about thirty minutes left of patrol duty. He took out a folded piece of parchment, mumbled, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." His eyes quickly scanned the map. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were in the kitchens… there. Lily Evans. She was on the third floor by the Charms classroom.

He wound his way down the spiral staircase, letting his fleet feet guide him. Soon, he came across her. Every step of hers was haggard, her shoulders drooped, her auburn hair hung limp- it seemed that she was taking great effort to drag herself around the school.

"Lily," James whispered.

She stiffened and stood up straighter. She turned around to face him. Tired green eyes lacking their usual vibrancy met his own lifeless pair. "Where were you?" She asked, her voice trembling with tight, controlled fury.

"Detention," he said dully.

"Don't lie to me, Potter. You didn't have a detention. I was talking to McGonagall about something and briefly mentioned… no, _asked_ if she could let you off the hook this once because I was tired today. She told me you didn't have a fucking detention." Now the white hot fury was blazing in her tone.

"I-er," he opened and closed his mouth. He felt his shoulders sag. "I'm sorry. I was with Sirius and Remus and Peter. I was helping Peter with some Transfiguration while Sirius was being tutored by Remus." It was half a lie. He had been helping Peter… at 8:00.

However, it sounded plausible enough to Lily. She had, after all, witnessed Peter and he working in the library. "But why'd you have to lie about the detention?" She asked quietly, her anger dissipating.

He looked away. He didn't want to tell her the truth, how he was too much of a coward to take his life. How he hadn't been strong enough to jump. "I… I didn't want to make it seem as though I'm changing for you." What a lie. Of course he wanted her notice. He screamed for her twenty-four seven.

She reached out her hand and briefly touched his arm. It was quick, barely noticeable, but James felt something course through his body. Eclectity or something. "How could I not notice?" She said softly, her gaze shyly meeting his as his eyes reclaimed the sight of her face.

"You don't like it." It was a statement, not a question.

"I-No. I do like it," she said, her voice getting quieter and quieter. "It's just-"

"Poisonous toadstools can't change their spots, I know." He said flatly in a dull monotone. He ran his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. "Look," he changed the subject. He found it too unbearable to think about, let alone discuss. "I still can patrol. You can go to sleep if you want."

"I want to, but I can't," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm such a nightmare, that I torment you in dreams."

"Whoever said you were the reason why I can't sleep?" Her voice was indignant.

"Because I heard you tell Hale and Vance that you-" his words were suddenly trapped in his throat.

"I?"

Saying it aloud would bring fresh waves of pain. Not slow, lapping ripples, but roaring, white-capped waves. It would only confirm that he hadn't been dreaming the conversation. It would- "You hate me. As in real, true, passionate hate." His voice dropped and suddenly he was out of breath, as if he had just run a very long marathon. "I- I have to go." He whispered. He turned around and took the first step away from her. His insides screamed at him to turn right around and… and what? Discuss their relationship?

"Wait!" Lily sounded desperate, lost even. Clearly, she had expected, had wanted the conversation to head in the direction of him proclaiming his undying love for her. As much as she wished she hated him, she actually didn't mind him. He was quite a nice bloke actually. She grabbed his arm, coincidentally, right where he had engraved her initials, not thirty minutes ago. He faced her, wincing. Her eyes went to his wrist where her grasp was, trying to make a connection with his grimace and the area she was holding. She wasn't the brightest witch in their year for nothing. "James?" She asked, alarmed. "Are you alright?"

He was fine. Really, he was, he tried to convince her… and himself. It was just a bit of pain, nothing big. Quite trivial actually.

"James," she repeated, her voice harsher. "What's going on? I don't understand. I didn't hurt you did I? So tell me."

"I… it was nothing. Just sore from Quidditch practices. Bruises," he lied. Why did he always have to lie to her? He didn't have any dignity to save, no pride, no image, no reputation… so why did he have to lie?

There were no visible marks that his arm was bruised so she gently pressed the tender area again and he suppressed a cry. His expression, however, betrayed him as it flickered from neutral to intense pain. "What's wrong?" She was almost begging him. "James?"

Isn't this what he wanted? Lily begging for him? But now it seemed so wrong. So, so wrong. Utterly, completely, wholly- everything just seemed so wrong.

Why did he have to be a prat, and why did she have to hate him? Why was she given the desire to wish him to be suicidal and why did he have to feel the need to satisfy her wants?

"I can't tell you." He pleaded with her to stop asking.

"Was it a Slytherin? I can hex them, too, you know. Snape? Snivellus? I'll get him, I swear."

Despite the situation, he smiled. Lily Evans was one hell of a witch. No wonder he had fallen head over heels in lo-li- fine, love. "No," he said weakly, truthfully, knowing that he could have just lied and ended the conversation.

"Then what?" She tried to persuade him to enlighten her, her eyes boring into his, searching for the answer. But he wasn't easy. He wasn't a pushover. James Potter didn't simply succumb to inquisitive, mesmerizing eyes. "Attack? No… Quidditch? I highly doubt..." she muttered, thinking. "Unless…." She fell silent, unsure to voice her thoughts. She opened her mouth, then shut it. She opened it again, but once again, quickly closed it. Her eyes were gradually widening in horror as she imagined the worst possible ideas.

"What are you thinking?" He asked her gently, unsettled by her distress.

She answered by pushing the sleeve of his robe up, past his elbow, exposing his entire forearm. She inspected it, her eyes raking his naked skin, looking for any trace, any possible... there, right at the crook of his elbow, there was a speck of dried-

"-blood," she murmured faintly. "James…you don't… you don't.. c-cut yourself do you?" There was no reply, only a defeated glance from him. He hadn't checked to see if there were remaining signs. He had only checked to make sure that there were no scars. "James. Look at me," she said as he refused to meet her eyes. "Tell me I'm crazy. Tell me I'm insane. That I should be carted off to St. Mungos." She was becoming frantic. "Don't joke with me. This was an attack right? Or… or a prank. Please make this a prank… JAMES!" Her eyes were brimming over.

He felt sick. He didn't even say anything and she was crying. Crying because of him. Again. _Again_. Why? He always did something wrong. He was disgusted with himself. He should have just jumped. If he had, he wouldn't need to see her shed tears again. Tears over _him_. "I-"

"James… how could you? You can die." Her tears were scalding her cheeks. She brushed them away, but the more she tried to dry them, the harder the flood streamed.

"But that's what you want," he choked, confused by her tears. "Shouldn't you be rejoicing? Doing a happy dance?"

"Why would I do that?" She asked, aghast at the absurdity of his questions.

"You hate me remember. You want me to die. You want me to throw myself off the Astronomy Tower."

He heard a sharp intake of breath. Fresh tears erupted.

"You were there." Realization hit her. Her eyes dilated even more. "Oh God. You were going to…" She broke down, sobbing. She threw her arms around him. "Why?" She pressed her face against his chest, his robes wet with her hot tears. "Why!" She forced herself to refrain from pounding him. "You didn't even think of me!"

"Didn't think of you…" He echoed. His eyes were suddenly steely, and his voice hinted slight anger. "Didn't think of you?" He repeated harshly. Lily shrank away from him, cowering at his tone. "What do you mean I didn't think of you? You were going to be my last thought. You were the inspiration for all this."

"I-" Lily's voice cracked. "I… James. I didn't know. I didn't mean. I didn't… why you?"

"What?"

"Why you? Why did you have to fall in love with me? Why? It could have been anyone else. I'm so sorry, James. Don't you see? I've been trying to push you away… because whenever I get close to people… I lose them. I'd rather… what do you call it? Not loved and not lost, than have loved and lost."

"Alice? Emmeline?"

"They're different…"

"You won't lose me."

"That's what they said too." She had stopped crying.

"Who they?"

"No one."

"Alright," he embraced her tightly.

"Why'd _you_ have to be the one to fall in love with me?" She repeated quietly.

"I don't know."

"It's not like I have a problem with you… it's just… why couldn't you be someone who gets over things easily?"

He didn't respond for awhile. "So you don't want me dead?"

"No."

"So now what?"

"How many times?" She asked breathlessly.

"I don't understand. How many times have I tried to commit suicide or how many times have I…focused on a physical pain?"

She flinched at his descriptions. "Both."

"Hmm, cutting- this is the sixth time," she gulped, "_this month_."

"This month?" She looked just about ready to faint. "So… you've done it… more than six times?"

"Yeah, but I'm not proud of it," he quickly tried to comfort her. "If I'd known that I wasn't the cause of your pain-"

"You are," she whispered, a lone drop trailing down her cheek, sticky with her dried tears.

James froze. "So… but… then you do hate me."

"I don't hate you. You cause me pain," she was interrupted by his growling, "but I don't hate you. In fact, it's only painful because," she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I make it painful. You wouldn't be in pain, I wouldn't be in pain if I'd have just said- just have said y-yes how many offers ago." She was angry with herself for choking at such a dramatic moment, for being so cliché. She was not cliché. Lily Evans was like Jo from _Little Women_. She was supposed to be spontaneous. She sighed. Perhaps she wasn't like Jo; she was more of an Elizabeth. And James was her Mr. Darcy. Abominable at first, but charming.

"I hurt you, and you don't hate me?" James was trying to let it all sink in. "But, the Astronomy Tower, the pain…" He waved his hand in the air frantically, trying to convey his emotions.

"James," she said softly, "I'm a good actress and liar. I'm good at pretending. Nobody knows that I-"

It was James' turn to let out a horrified gasp. "Lily, don't tell me you cut yourself… because of me…" So he did hurt her. He made _her_ hurt _herself_. He wanted to strangle himself.

"Who knew we had so much in common?" She smiled crookedly.

"I wish we didn't have _this_," he thrust his arm out, "in common."

"I had to let it out."

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I don't know. Because that would be too cliché."

"Cliché?" James scoffed. So maybe he wasn't being a gentleman at that moment, but all he was thinking about was how utterly lame her excuse was. "Cliché? You wanted to save yourself from being cliché so you decided to express your feelings for me through physical pain?" He was trying to keep his voice low. "It was your stupid, goddamn pride that made you refuse to go out with me, Evans!"

She blinked at him, shocked at his reaction. Weren't they supposed to cry together like the heroes and heroines did in those sappy romantic novels? He was supposed to capture her lips with his. He was supposed to embrace her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He was supposed to be comforting. He was-

She recovered quickly and snapped back, "If you weren't so infuriating, I wouldn't have any of my goddamn pride!"

"Infuriating? I was just trying to find a way to your heart!" He yelled.

"Shut up, prat! Keep it down!" Lily hissed. "And finding a way to my heart? All you did was force me to keep my guard up!"

"Well excuse me for being James Potter. But it worked, didn't it? You love me!"

"At this moment, I hate you, Potter." She spat.

"The feeling is mutual, Evans," he said, just as icily.

Heavy silence fell.

The Head Boy and Girl stood there, glaring at each other with the utmost loathing.Without warning silent tears graced her high cheekbones, tracing well worn, familiar paths down her face. She wanted to cease to exist. She wished she'd never met him, never got to know him.

"Oh God! Lily, I'm so sorry. I- I suck at this stuff. I always make a blunder and make things worse for you." He was crying along with her now, his vision blurry. James tried to comfort her. "I didn't mean what I said. I understand if you mean it, but I don't. I'll never mean it. I can't. Even if you were torturing me to the brink of insanity- death even, I still wouldn't mean it."

"No, James," she wept. "You have all the right in the world to hate me. I've cut you open like a bleeding surgeon. I was so stupid. It's my fault really. I always start the fighting. I don't know why I couldn't just admit it. There was something that was holding me back. And no, it's not pride or being cliché. Those are the two dumbest, most idiotic, most pathetic excuses I've ever used. James," her voice hitched, "I was scared."

"Don't be." He whispered.

"I can't help it. Everything's happening too fast. You-Know-Who's gaining power and murdering people left and right. Mum and Dad are gone, Petunia's ignoring me. My entire _family_ is gone. Physically and emotionally. I don't want to lose anyone else."

"You won't lose me," he reassured her.

"You can't promise that," her tears were still free flowing.

"I'll be yours while I live then." He lifted his hand to caress her face, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

His act was so gentle, so caring, so _loving_ that Lily began to cry even harder.

A stern voice brought them back to reality. "What's this? Students out of bed?"

They both jumped. "Er, Professor McGonagall, we were just-"

"You see, we were-"

Professor McGonagall tutted. "Having a passionate moment?" She glared at them, even though she was jumping for joy in the inside; she had noticed the tears trickling down both Lily's and James' cheeks. "It's 11:14 and I _assume _that patrolling hour is done. I would have expected more from the Heads. Next time, it'll be twenty five points from Gryffindor. Don't let me catch you wandering again." She gave them another withering look before leaving. Blast it, but her lips were pulled up in a tight smile even though she now owed Dumbledore twenty five Galleons.

"This never happened, okay?"

James let his shoulders droop. "Whatever you want… love."

"Don't call me that. It'll just make it harder to say good-"

His lips tasted hers and her sombre goodbye was lost inside his mouth, the words disappearing in the kiss. Her brain screamed at her but her heart silenced it. She kissed him back.

Damn it. He had had enough of her running away. It had been a now or never situation. He chose now and now his hands were on her waist; hers were wrapped around his neck, her fingers entwined in his ebony locks. He didn't want to surface from the torrents of ecstasy that she flooded him with. His nightmare of a life turned right side up, transforming into a beautiful dream in that one moment.

They broke away.

They said nothing as they hauled themselves all the way to the Gryffindor Common Room. Their physical bodies were exhausted from their taxing excursion, but inside, they were dancing- she in his reverie, and he in hers.

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A/N: er, I apologize for the cutting part if that made you uncomfortable. I tried to find a situation to force the conversation. I guess it was kinda forced and sorta progressed too rapidly. And I have no idea why McGonagall came into the picture. I just was finding it extremely long and boring and dragging so I needed to find a way to end it. It was supposed to end with her, but I had a feeling people would have been wondering about the typical L/J kiss. So I wrote it- more. But the kiss was fairly short because my image of James is that he's not that fast. He doesn't want to scare Lily.

On a lighter note, i'm going to try and exercise my fluffy side so watch out for more lighthearted fics. i'm kinda scaring myself with my recent ones. .

Please R&R. Critiques are the best, I say. I appreciate the comments, in advance, and try to respond to them asap.

And so I've talked enough


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